The River of Heaven
by tentsubasa
Summary: After telling the 104th the ancient Asian legend of the weaving princess and the cowherd on a starry night, Armin experiences first-hand his own twist of the tale of two lovers and the River of Heaven.


**Since AruAni is incredibly appropriate for Tanabata (the Japanese Star Festival), I'd been toying with the idea of doing something for it. I'm actually a little surprised more people haven't written Tanabata-based stories or done Tanabata-based AruAni fanart actually since the legend kind of suits them down to the ground, but whatever. All of this year's Tanabata festivities in Japan are long over, but at least this exists, I suppose. I'm embellishing a bit on _The Weaver Girl and the Cowherd_ legend that the festival revolves around, so there will be stuff that's not technically part of the original story, but nothing that anyone should find too radical, I hope.**

**I had originally planned to have the cadets throw their own little Tanabata celebration spearheaded by Armin and Mikasa, but since the legend and Armin and Annie's interpretations of it are supposed to be the center of this story, I decided that having all the rest of it in here as well would be too distracting. Sorry to anyone who was hoping to see some wish writing and other fun Tanabata traditions.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own _Shingeki no Kyojin/Attack on Titan_ or any of their affiliates.**

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"Long, long ago," Armin began after the other members of the 104th had settled around him outside the boys' barracks after dinner for a story, "there was a girl named Orihime who lived by the banks of the River of Heaven with her father, the King of the Sky."

Ever since they were forced to become refugees, Armin had taken to telling Eren and Mikasa stories before bed on occasion and that didn't change even after they became trainees. However, over time, what had begun as a small gathering of three quickly boomed into a camp-wide activity as word of the fanciful, gripping tales Armin spun spread. And now, after agonizing days of waiting, Armin was finally going to tell them an old Asian folktale he'd discovered the previous week in one of the books in the library. While everyone always (for the most part) respectfully listened whenever Armin told any of his stories, the prospect of a long lost story from an ancient culture riveted everyone in their seats.

"Orihime had long, silky, ebony hair that fell to her waist and skin as pale as moonlight. Her eyes and laugh were sprinkled with the twinkle of the stars, and she treated everyone with kindness and respect. She was beloved by all, especially her father, whom she loved dearly in return.

"Now although she was a princess, she was expected to work the same as anyone else and wove the most beautiful cloth. The fabric she wove held unexplored worlds in every strand, as if the magnificence of the universe had been condensed in part into the thread on her loom. Every bolt she created was light as air, and the greatest masterpieces of the world could not compare to the rich colors and designs she wove with care.

"Knowing how much her father delighted in the cloth she wove, Orihime worked tirelessly to make it. There was no greater joy to her than to do the work she loved for the pleasure of the person she loved most in the universe. She especially loved to set up her loom on the banks of the River of Heaven and watch the people on the Earth below as they lived out their lives. She'd weave their emotions and stories into the fabric, creating exquisite patterns of life and wonder. Day after day, and year after year, she wove and watched by the River of Heaven.

"However, as she grew older and blossomed into a young woman, Orihime yearned to know the sweetness of the romantic love she saw people share on the Earth below. Of course, there were many young men who lived in the sky, but she didn't have the time to meet them and weave her cloth as well. So she despaired of ever being able to fall in love and resigned herself to going through life forever alone. But she could not bring herself to stop watching the people of the Earth as they loved and were loved in return, so as time passed by, she became more and more lonely, her tears adding to the river and the cloth she wove growing dark and heavy.

"Concerned for his daughter, the King of the Sky came down from the palace to ask her why she was so sad. And Orihime, unable to bear the pain any longer, spilled the longings of her heart to him and explained her dilemma. Wiping away his daughter's tears, the king promised she would have her heart's desire. Orihime's sorrow turned to joy, and her heart became light again. The days after were filled with happiness and excitement as she waited eagerly for her father to fulfill his promise.

"Now the King of the Sky looked over all his domain and scrutinized the men of his kingdom to see if there was one he considered fit for his daughter. And after searching far and wide, he decided on Hikoboshi, a lowly cowherd who lived on the other side of the river. Hikoboshi was strong, handsome, and brave, but more than that, he was hard-working, patient, and kind. He understood the importance of duty and conducted everything he did with integrity. Satisfied that Hikoboshi would make Orihime a fine husband, the King of the Sky arranged for the two to meet; it was love at first sight."

At this point, many of the girls in the audience sighed appreciatively. Some of the guys rolled their eyes and made faces at their sappiness, but since they wanted Armin to continue with the story, that was about the extent of their mocking.

"The two were soon married and every day they spent together was pure bliss. However, they were so in love, they completely neglected their work! Orihime never wove and Hikoboshi allowed his cows to roam all over the heavens where they wreaked havoc on many. The king was furious! And in his anger, he banished Hikoboshi to the other side of the River of Heaven and destroyed all means of crossing it so that the two lovers could never see each other again."

A collective gasp came over the group as images of the god's rage when he ripped the lovers apart crackled through the air.

"Heartbroken and thoroughly chastised, the two despondently threw themselves into their work, though neither found any joy in it. Orihime wept day and night by the banks of the river that separated her from her beloved, the river she'd once loved becoming her greatest source of pain. She grew frail and weak, her skin and hair losing their luster and the sparkle of her eyes dimmed with sorrow as she pined for her husband. Often, the two would gaze across the great river, longing for even a glimpse of the one they loved, but the River of Heaven was far wider than the eye could see.

"Once his anger had cooled, the King of the Sky felt very sorry for what he had done. It hurt him to see his precious daughter suffer so much. But at the same time, he couldn't risk them neglecting their work again, so he couldn't simply restore them to each other either. He had a whole kingdom to take care of, and while he loved Orihime more than life itself, he was the king and had to be concerned for the welfare of _all_ his subjects. After thinking long and hard, he came up with a solution: if they worked hard and kept track of their duties properly, once a year, he would allow them to meet on the seventh day of the seventh month."

A look of understanding washed over many faces in the audience as they noted the date. No wonder Armin had refused to tell this story until tonight.

"Overjoyed, the couple set to work again. And though they worked harder than they ever had, to them, it seemed the easiest of tasks, and the year flew by as if they were only waiting a mere few days. Such was was the strength of their love for one another.

"When the seventh day of the seventh month finally came around, the King of the Sky, greatly pleased with their diligence, graciously gave them his blessing to meet. Spurred by thoughts of finally being reunited her beloved, Orihime rushed down to the river, but soon realized that there still wasn't any way to cross it!"

At this point, many of the audience members erupted in outrage.

"What a jerk!"

"That's messed up!"

"How _could_ he? To his own daughter, no less!"

"What's the point of giving his permission if he wasn't going to make it actually possible?"

"Why that good-for-nothing—"

Armin waited patiently for the objections to simmer down before he continued, brushing some of his wheat-colored hair behind his ear, "Throwing herself to the ground in anguish, Orihime wept bitterly at the cruelty of the situation. With no bridge or boat, how could they ever see each other again? Her loud sobbing soon attracted the attention of a large flock of magpies.

"Distressed to see the kind princess so distraught, the magpies flew to her side and asked what was the matter. Heartbroken and in despair, the whole story came tumbling out of her, the magpies listening patiently through the sobs and raspy gasps. When she'd finished her tale, the magpies looked at one another wishing there was something they could do. Orihime had always been good and kind to them, and now, they wanted to help her in her time of need. But what could a flock of birds do?

"Suddenly, the wisest of them declared, 'If a bridge is what you need, Princess, then let us form one for you. We may be small, but we are many, and our wings will keep you and Hikoboshi from falling into the river.'

"'You would do that for us?' Orihime asked, her voice trembling with the dreams of hope renewed.

"'It would be our pleasure, Princess,' the magpie responded with a bow. 'Every year, if the sky is clear, we will come to provide a bridge for you and your husband. So wipe away your tears, Princess, lest the river overflow and the rainfall obscure our way to you. Then, you'll have to wait another year to meet.'

"So, wiping away her tears, Orihime thanked the magpies and promised to heed their warning. And nodding in satisfaction, the flock rose into the air and formed a bridge. Orihime stepped hesitantly on the fluttering mass with fear in her heart, but her desire to be reunited with Hikoboshi gave her strength to move forward. On and on she walked, almost slipping multiple times into the rushing river below, but the magpies held strong and didn't let her fall. Then, in the distance, she saw him, and with a joyful cry, she ran and ran until she fell into his arms, their reunion sanctioned with a kiss that would last them for the year to come."

Armin smiled and pointed up at the sky to two stars that shone out against the river of light that was the Milky Way. His pure blue eyes shone with warmth. "And since that day, on the seventh day of the seventh month, if you look high in the clear night sky, you can see the annual miracle meeting of Orihime and Hikoboshi on the magpie bridge over the River of Heaven."

As his peers enthusiastically clapped, the slight boy laughed and bowed jokingly. It seemed he'd had another successful evening of storytelling. "The story is a legend revolving around those two stars up there, Altair and Vega," he explained. "Every year, around this time, they come together over the Milky Way. Many Asian cultures used to hold star festivals honoring the celestial event."

"Did they have lots of food?" Sasha asked.

Armin hid a smile. The tall brunette really _did_ always have food on the brain. "Probably. In a book I read, there are some special foods associated with the holiday, but they differed depending on which Asian culture is celebrating the festival. For example, if you were Japanese, then you'd eat these long, thin white noodles because they'd look like the Milky Way, and if you were Chinese, then you'd often eat various beautifully prepared fruit-based dishes to emphasize the sweetness and beauty of love."

"It sounds like the festivals were all a little bit different depending on the culture," Marco observed, tapping his freckled cheek thoughtfully. "Was the story you just told us the same across all of the different cultures?"

"Well…not exactly," Armin admitted. "There were some that were basically the same and others that were quite a bit different where Hikoboshi is a human that had to build a bamboo bridge to heaven to reach Orihime before the whole being separated by the river thing came into the picture. But according to the book, this was the most popular rendition told in the Japanese culture, so for our resident half-Japanese comrade," he nodded at Mikasa with a warm smile, "I thought I'd choose this one."

"That was such a romantic story. Thank you so much for telling it to us, Armin," Krista thanked.

A lot of others echoed the blonde angel's thanks.

Armin flushed at everyone's praise in pleased embarrassment. "I'm glad everyone liked it."

"I didn't," Eren refuted.

Everyone spun to look at the highly irritated brown-haired boy in shock. Eren always loved Armin's stories. Even if they were silly, sappy, or ludicrous, he would always hang onto every word.

"They should have fought," the green-eyed boy declared emphatically. "A river isn't that big of an obstacle, even if it was hundreds of kilometers wide. They could've built a boat or run away or _something_. If their love had been real, they would've fought it. Why'd they just quietly accept their fate?"

"That's naïve even for you."

The whole group turned to look in surprise at the normally-silent girl who had separated herself a bit from the others over on the side.

Annie fixed her crystal blue eyes on an undefined spot somewhere just over everyone's head. "There are many reasons people can't be with those they love. There are rivers like death, duty, and circumstance among others that people can't cross." For a split second, Armin thought her eyes had flicked to him, but it was so short, he figured he must've imagined it. "Sometimes, all you can do is wait for a day when things will change and allow you to cross the river." She stood and made her way away from the barrack, flaxen bun bobbing slightly with every stride. She paused just before she'd fade out of the lamplight and murmured into the silence, "Because that's part of what it means to grow up."

The heavy atmosphere stretched for what seemed an eternity before Hannah bravely expressed her opinion of the story, and just like that, the night air filled with chatter again as people shared their thoughts and debated their perspectives. In all the excitement, no one noticed another light-haired figure steal away from the group.

It took awhile, but Armin eventually found her sitting at his favorite stargazing spot, a hill a small a bit away from everything where when one looked up, it seemed like the world consisted of nothing but the sky. He almost wondered if it was just a coincidence that she'd come to one of his secret haunts before dismissing the alternative as wildly improbable. He watched her quietly as she sat there, small and pale against the expanse of black velvet and diamond. Annie always held herself a little away from everything. She was reserved, quiet, and preferred her own company. What rivers, if any, were keeping her from becoming closer to people?

"What?" The word was harsh and pointed. It seemed she'd gotten fed up with waiting for him to state his business.

"I…." He blew out a breath and laughed a little in embarrassment; just how long had he been staring? "I just wanted to tell you how impressed I was with your speech."

Mild surprise flitted through her eyes before they returned to their usual placid calm. "I was just telling it straight."

"I know, but not many people can." He smiled. "I think you've given a lot of people something to think about. Everyone was talking about their perspectives on the legend when I left. Your comments brought a new dimension of depth to the story."

She made a noncommittal sound of acknowledgement and went back to staring out at the horizon.

"May…I sit here…?" he asked after a long moment, motioning to the spot next to her.

"I don't own this hill."

He took that as permission and sat, his eyes looking to the stars. The night sang quietly around them, crickets chirping and the wind rustling in a soothing rhythm no instrument on earth could mimic. He watched his companion out of the corner of his eye, wondering what thoughts filled her head. "I can't imagine how hard it must be for Hikoboshi and Orihime on years when it's cloudy," he finally broke the quiet.

She made a vague sound of agreement. Her face lifted so she could see the reunited lovers. "…What would they have done…if the magpies hadn't come or if for some reason every year it was guaranteed to be cloudy?" She picked at the grass mindlessly. "If there was no chance…what would they do?"

His eyes softened when he heard the question beneath the question. "They'd believe, just like you said." His smile was warm as she looked up at him. "They'd work hard and continue to hope that they'd one day see their love again, that…one day, the King of the Sky would allow them to see each other again. If they knew they could never meet on the previously appointed day, maybe they'd work in hopes that they could show the king that they deserved a second chance and they'd be forgiven."

His eyes watched her quietly as she digested his words. Though her face never moved, he could see her working out his statements in her head, mulling and turning over them, trying to decide something. Eventually, she turned her whole body toward him, though she kept her eyes down. "…Armin…."

"Hmm?" He smiled leisurely.

"If there's ever an end to all this fighting and we come out of it alive…" her eyes slid up, "there's…something I want to tell you." She could feel her cheeks heating as she forced herself to hold eye contact.

Armin's eyes widened as his heart raced unsteadily. Was she…?

Annie turned to the lovers in the sky for a moment before returning to the boy before her, her cheeks still hot. "Would you be willing to listen to what I have to say?" she murmured, a note of vulnerability she couldn't quite suppress sneaking out.

He broke into a large smile. She _was_. "Of course," he barely managed to keep himself from eagerly shouting the words in elation. "I'll always happily to listen to anything you have to say, Annie." His gaze became shy and meaningful, an awkward red spreading over his face. "When that day comes, I…also have something I'd like to tell you if…if it's okay with you…."

She didn't think her face could get any warmer, but somehow it did. "It's a deal." Her lips curved gently as she secretly took girlish pleasure in the reverent awe and happiness in the look Armin returned. As she turned back to Orihime and Hikoboshi though, her smile faded. Would there be a day when the magpie bridge of peace would be built? Even with Armin's bright hope shining beside her, from where she stood, the river between them looked impossibly wide and deep.

Not even a year later, Armin found himself wondering the same thing. As he stared out the window of Eren's hospital room, he thought back on the events that had unfolded over the last month. Now on top of the uncertainty of whether they'd live or die from one day to the next, rivers of betrayal, enmity, and layers upon layers of secrets flowed between the two of them. But even more daunting than any of these was the unbreakable crystal that physically separated Annie from the rest of the world. He remembered the way it had shimmered blindingly and flowed at its creation, as if she had summoned the actual River of Heaven in the sky for a moment before it engulfed her in its depths, sealing her off from everyone and everything.

A dull ache throbbed somewhere in the vicinity of his heart. After Annie had told him of her feelings in her own indirect way all those months ago, he'd thought he'd understood what it was like for Hikoboshi, but now he knew he'd known nothing. Always suffering, drowning in loneliness, forever wanting to meet without being able to, unable to do anything but work and move forward, eternally praying fervently that they could be reunited if only for one blissful moment among thousands—he'd never realized what a cruel and painful love story it was, never felt so acutely the meaning of the term star-crossed lovers. When they had split up into separate branches, he always figured that as long as he was alive, their hope would burn bright, but this…where could one find hope in this?

"_'If there was no chance…what would they do?'_" Annie's voice murmured in his mind like fog through a veil.

A solitary tear slid down Armin's face and he turned to look once again at his sleeping friend whose tan face was etched with exhaustion. "They'd believe," he whispered.

For that was all they could do.

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**Well, that was nice and depressing. It wasn't completely devoid of hope though, so maybe it's a little less depressing that way. I for one am waiting to see what'll happen when Annie gets out of that crystal (because she has to get out; what other reason is there for her to still be around?). Seriously, at this rate, her voice actress is going to have no part in season two and possibly three of the anime.**

**So like Armin said in the story, I took the variation of _The Weaver Girl and the Cowherd_ that is most commonly associated with Tanabata. Since Armin and Annie are star-crossed like Orihime and Hikoboshi, I thought it'd be cute to do a little something with them together. I've seen _Romeo and Juliet_-based AruAni fanart and _Sleeping Beauty_-based fanart, but I haven't seen any Tanabata-based fanart. I'd love to see an Orihime Annie and Hikoboshi Armin fanart someday, but I can't draw for beans. (T_T) Oh well, such is life. Maybe next year, I'll try to get to a Tanabata festival and write down a wish for someone to draw one. *laughs*  
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**I hope you enjoyed it. (^_^) Happy super belated Tanabata!**


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